Shadows of Time
by tortoisesoup
Summary: Prologue. Danny Phantom encounters a ghost with the ability to manipulate time and finds himself in a devastated future world. How will he stop this ghost from destroying everything else he holds dear? DannyxSam.


> **Author's note:** This was originally going to be a one-shot thing. But then the story just started developing in my head and now it's going to be a multi-chaptered fanfic now. Since I already had this part written, this is the PROLOGUE. I will go further in depth to the circumstances which led to this event and what occurs after this in later chapters. I hope you enjoy this story (keep in mind that everything you are reading is first draft and only edited quickly by myself, so please forgive). I also appreciate feedback concerning what I can improve; I'm always up for constructive criticism! Please comment, I am addicted to comments, plus it serves as motivation for me to continue because I am highly driven by positive feedback. Also, your own ideas on what may happen in the story may serve as influence on my story (proper credit will be given, of course), so feel free to submit your ideas! Oh yes, and these characters don't belong to me (unfortunately). Now, after that long author's note (congrats if you got all of the way through it), read and enjoy! Oh yes. The rest of the story will not be so melodramatic. Well, parts of it will be, but this is the most melodrama you'll see at once, hopefully. Keep in mind that this is only the prologue. Most prologues are melodramatic, right?  
  
**Shadows of Time**  
  
_Prologue  
_  
Nighttime. It was always nighttime here. The muddy green and purple sky churned angrily, the black clouds tossing and turning restlessly within it.  
The pale yellow light of the moon shone off the pure white hair of the young man crouched on the barren ground below. His shoulders were hunched, convulsing with silent sobs. His knees hit the ground, causing small clouds of dust to rise. Head downward, the tears leaked out from the corners of his eyes, crawling down his cheeks, leaving shining snail tracks in their wake. They caressed his features, stroking it until they reached his chin; where they abandoned him and fell upon the face of another adolescent below him. A face which was rapidly beginning to lose its color. A face whose body was quickly stiffening into rigor mortis, lying crumpled in front of the silent boy. The face of a young woman.  
The clouds rumbled and flashed as they began to rain their fury down upon the land from their hellish dwelling in the sky.  
The white-haired youth made no sound, but raised his face to the sky, letting the acid rain hit his face, plastering his short hair to his skull and his cheeks. He closed his eyes and let the drops fall upon his lids. His neck lay exposed to the world. He could feel the pumping of his weakening heart in his jugular, senses heightened by the stretch of his skin over his veins. The acidic rivulets of water leaked into the tears in his black and white jumpsuit, entering the wounds of his flesh and causing searing pain wherever they touched the exposed muscle. He moved his gloved hand to the gaping hole in his left thigh, the cut so deep that the white of the bone could be seen past the gaps in his fingers. His other hand lay limp upon the ground, palm open and wrist upwards, resting upon the dirt. He was wounded badly. Fatally, without a doubt. And it didn't matter anymore.  
The life ebbed slowly from his body as the blood rushed out of his wounds. His fingers were stained and sticky with warm blood; mostly his own. He could feel the heat draining from him, stolen by the cold of the water. The picture of naïve trust, the epitome of frailty. Vulnerable, exposed, and defenseless he waited for death to take him into its sweet embrace and release him from this terrible scarred world. This world that his negligence had created.  
"Giving up so easily, Boy?" a voice cackled from in front of him. "You poor excuse for a specter. You're too human. Your emotions weigh you down. It is emotion that can ruin a being. Emotion leads to downfall, and you are a waterfall of it. Your humanity is your weakness."  
The boy held his position, seemingly unhearing of the words the came from the creature that had caused and uncaring of what his own fate would be. The being stood naught but three yards away, its voice dripping with the lust for murder. "Your emotions concerning this girl: they are what has defeated you. I was looking forward to more of a fight from the esteemed Halfa that had all of the ghost world talking... but you have turned out a failure and a severe disappointment. You have too much human in you."
> 
> The ghost gave him a thoughtful look, then glanced at the corpse that lay in front of him. "The emotion you felt for her... what was it called? It has been so long since I have felt as you do. What was it called, again?" He stroked his chin, a human gesture that had stuck with him, even in death. "Ah yes, I remember now. It is called 'love'. You felt love. One of the most foolish emotions of all. Love is useless. Look where it got you!"
> 
> Gleaming green eyes were suddenly exposed as the youth's eyelids snapped open. His senses came rushing back to him. Apathy lost, he could suddenly taste the iron of the blood in his mouth and could feel the stabbing pains all over his body again, prickling back into existence. It wasn't useless. It hadn't been useless.

The boy's adversary continued to speak. "All in vain! Anger I can understand. Hate. Revenge. But love! Foolish, foolish love. It has done nothing but bring death for her. And now, for you."

The white-gloved hands of the child balled into fists. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was set in a grim line of determination. The taunting voice of his killer was right. He was going to die.

The rain continued to pound upon the earth, turning the once dry dirt into puddles of mud and enclosing all in a curtain of mist. The blood from his body swiveled 'round and 'round in the puddles of water, billowing into red clouds that soon disappeared into the soil.

"Stupid human. You should have known from the start: you could never win. Your stupidity got your lover killed. It's all your fault. You had to be the hero. But all heroes fall, you must know that. All heroes fall."

The young man tilted his head, tearing his gaze from the convoluted sky to rest in the eyes of the murderer who stood before him. The black bangs of the dead girl were pushed aside from the constantly flowing water, revealing porcelain skin that had turned white from death. Unseeing eyes stared out from their sockets, clouded over in a gray haze. The youth raised his hand from the ground and brushed his hands over her eyes, closing them with her vein-decorated lids. The purple of her eye shadow smeared, wet with rain, making it seem as if she were crying violet tears.

The white-haired child knew he was going to die. It was inevitable. Heroes fell, this was true.

But he wouldn't go without a fight.  
  
**_ to be continued._**


End file.
